Fallen From Grace
by Metallica1862
Summary: What happens when the heroes become the hunted? The Power Rangers have fallen from grace. The Overlord has taken over and his Slavers are now the ruling class. Rangers are hunted. Many have been killed. Others are either enslaved or in hiding. A small band, now a secret force remains. Can they, with the help of some wily orphans reclaim hero status or will they all perish.
1. Gutters

_**Gutters**_

Fire crawled over his skin. Tingling numbness engulfed his hands as he fought to free himself from confinement. A task made more difficult by the layers of lash marks and burns that covered most of his body. If he was to ever be free from this hell, now was the time. He could wait no longer. His mind raced as he worked his bloody, swollen wrists free of the shackles.

"Gutter slag, what're you doing!? Get up from there and move back!" A crack of the whip sent the crowd of slaves scurrying back to their posts leaving one alone to face the dangers of defiance. "I said move it!" The Enforcer gave the half-starved male slave several solid kicks to the ribcage. It was a final warning before the individual would be unceremoniously drug off to one of the many torture chambers used for behavior modification.

Wheezing breath was sucked from his chest and he spat blood. He didn't move. On the inside he was weary, and a trembling disaster, but he didn't let it show. Starved, sick and injured, this was his only shot at freedom. If he failed, he would not live to see the future for he would take his own life before he allowed the Overlord to extinguish it. There would only be one Enforcer between this point and the portal. If he could just reach the portal, he would be free. It opened once every hour to allow new slaves to be brought through but once on the other side any sort of pursuit was usually short-lived. There were too many places to hide in the crowded streets of the city above and only a dozen Drivers, most of which had no interest in re-capturing the meager few who managed to escape.

"Get up or be punished!" Another crack of the whip, the sound causing a bevy of screeches and screams from the slaves nearby. The next strike caught flesh, shredding the tattered, blood stained and filthy garment. The strike opened up the back of the one who refused to obey. More strikes came in succession most of which fell short or barely missed. The few that did make contact left gaping, bleeding lacerations over the back and legs of the disobedient.

He squelched a cry of pain. His muscles quivered in shock as hot fiery agony crisscrossed his back and legs. Imperceptibly, his gaze shifted to the end of the corridor, past the imposing figure of the Enforcer. There glowing in the dirty, yellow light, radiated the bluish red hues of the portal. Eyes of despair and fear watched him from dark recesses. The other slaves found a morsel of hope within his plight to be free. A vow he made, in that moment. If he managed to get free, he would come back with help and free those that remained.

The Enforcer shifted his position closing in on the disobedient slave. He let the whip fly once more, the strike slicing through burned flesh and worn muscle on the slave's lower legs. There was a distinctive scratching noise as a charged stun rod slid from the holster at his shoulder. "Get up now!"

The air sizzled as the electrical charge primed the end of the rod with a bright white glow. The mist emitted from the end of that rod could drop a full grown bull elephant. It carried static charge and the jolt was enough to knock out even the toughest men for several hours. The sticks were used to gain control of slaves that refused to obey. It knocked them unconscious so they could be easily carted off to the torture chambers to be punished. Even the end of the rod carried enough punch to paralyze and stun a victim into semi-conscious stupor.

If he took even a glancing strike from that rod, his plan to reach the portal would be over before it began. He would awaken hours or days later chained to a wall in a torture room. In his current physical condition, the initial electrical jolt and resulting beating would extinguish his life. He made a mock effort to rise, shifting to his knees before collapsing again to the ground. The move looked legit even though it was merely a ploy to prevent the Enforcer from getting too trigger happy with that stun rod. His muscles convulsed with the effort and bloody phlegm slid from his mouth as the motion aggravated broken ribs and various other likely unknown internal injuries.

The Enforcer clicked the trigger on the handle of the stun rod, priming the end with a burst of spray. The metal glistened with fire. White sparks arced from the end. The light, like a devilish halo flamed upward. It lit red embers in beastly eyes and made the thick sweat oozing from oily skin visibly glisten. Another click of the trigger and the end of the rod glowed red. A strike from it would immediately incapacitate its victim. "You will be punished! Get up!"

Heart thudding in his ears, he watched the Enforcer take aim with the stun rod. He had watched them for what seemed like years from the dark recesses. Watched and learned the game. Gained knowledge and an understanding of how these scenarios always unfolded. If the usual series of events held true, the Enforcer would-.

It came almost before his weary brain could process and react. The Enforcer let fly with a crack of the whip. The strike intended to create the sound of a cannon echoing over the walls of the tunnels. There came a second crack, the sound making the slaves cringe back into the darkness in fear. Then, deafening silence. His stomach jumped up into his chest at the possibility that he had misjudged this particular Enforcer. Warily, his gaze lifted to see the white glow of the stun rod now aimed at his chest-.

"I said get up and face the consequences of your disobedience or be taken to chambers by force." The Enforcer clicked the trigger on the rod, the sound hissing over the walls like a viper about to strike. "GET UP!" Two slight steps to the side came as the Enforcer's wrist snapped over to coil the whip-.

CRACK! CRACK! The whip lashed out twice in quick succession, the strikes so powerful and fast that the barbed tip whistled as it moved through the stale air. With the last reserve of energy he could muster, he pushed to his feet and like lightning caught the end of the whip. The barb dug into his forearm as he flipped his hand over to take out the slack. In one smooth, succinct motion, he gave a hard jerk over his head and with the recoil allowed it to sling him over the ground and around the Enforcer. His balance faltered. Skidding across the stones, the sharp edges shredded his legs before he let go of the whip. He scrambled wearily in an effort to regain his balance.

"Get back here!" The Enforcer flicked his wrist, recoiling the whip while spinning on his heel to try and capture the fleeing slave. The portal loomed and if the slave managed to penetrate it, there would be little chance of success. He moved with purpose.

"NO!" A hoarse female voice wailed as the Enforcer pulled the trigger on the stun rod. Electrically charged spray netting pulsed from the tip. The sparks lit up the corridor in an eerie white hot glow. She leapt from one of the recesses and grabbed the male slave. Gruffly, she shoved him to the edge of the portal.

He spun, catching her in his arms. Their gazes met as the spray raced toward them, filling the air with heat and crackling energy. _"Wh-?"_ For the briefest moment, he thought she looked strikingly familiar.

She grunted. Her jaw set firm and her gaze understanding, she didn't answer. She jerked from his grip and launched him backward into the now open portal. A split second later, her gaze widened. The breath left her lungs as the spray net engulfed her. Muscles seized in spasm as bolts of fire raced over flesh. Before she could see if he'd been sucked to freedom, the world around her faded into liquid blackness. Her body slumped to the ground in a twitching heap.


	2. The City

_**The City**_

Watch your tongue or have it cut from your head

Save your life by keeping whispers unsaid

Children roam the streets now orphans of war

Bodies hanging in the streets to adore…

_(Lyrics to Song: Hail to the King. Artist: Avenged Sevenfold)_

A failing city trapped in a mire of chaotic confusion. It had become a post-apocalyptic hell. Swarms of half-starved people roamed filthy streets, fussing and arguing over what few scraps of food could be scavenged from piles of rubble and composting trash. Packs of orphans wearing filthy torn garments and looking unkempt raced through the crowds picking pockets of those that might have wealth left to spare or outright stealing scraps from hungry hands.

Buildings crumbled in on themselves and the few that weren't damaged were jam-packed with cardboard shanties built to provide basic shelter to the population. Drivers swarmed over the masses. The whine of the transports keeping complete violent chaos from erupting throughout the city. They watched for those who fit the profile for new slaves. Watched and waited to capture and force them into slavery. Even the limited number of Drivers didn't stop the slavers from making their daily quota. There were plenty of easy targets swarming the ruined streets in an effort to merely survive one more day.

Royal flames will carve a path of chaos

Bringing daylight to the night

Death is riding in the town with armor

They come to take all your rights

Hail to the king

Hail to the one

Kneel to the crown

Stand in the sun…

_(Lyrics to Song: Hail to the King. Artist: Avenged Sevenfold)_

Creeping clouds of haze filtered out the sun leaving the streets bleak and the air ripe with dank chill. Thick smoke billowed from fires burning out of control throughout the city. The clouds turned the sky a filthy gray. The noxious stench of death, mingled with despair punched through the acrid bite of smoke and fire and overpowered everything else. Hope, much like life had died here.

At the chime of the old church tower, the scene erupted. Upon the strike of ten each morning, the portal to despair opened, swallowed those who had been chosen and closed once more. Most that went in, never returned and the few that did come back were never the same. Drivers moved in to collect their daily quota. The streets burst into a swarming hive of chaos as they continuously stirred the masses. The wailing screams of those that were too weak or too slow to avoid capture provided a haunting melody to what was a living nightmare.

Blood is spilled while holding keys to the throne

Born again but it's too late to atone

No mercy from the edge of the blade

Dare escape and learn the price to be paid

Let the water flow in shades of red now

Arrows black out all the light

Death is riding into town with armor

They've come to grant you your rights

_(Lyrics to Song: Hail to the King. Artist: Avenged Sevenfold)_

They forcefully separated those adults that they deemed suitable. The new slaves were drug into the transports, knocked unconscious and their wrists and ankles chained. Children were torn away from parents as the slavers had no use for them. The orphaned were left to their own devices, either scavenging for themselves with the rest of the street kids or dying from starvation. Those too young to survive on the streets or the recently born were slaughtered on sight. It was a hopeless, gruesome cycle of existence overshadowed by tragedy and death.

Let the water flow with shades of red now

Arrows black out all the light

Death is riding into town with armor

They've come to grant you your rights…

_(Lyrics to Song: Hail to the King. Artist: Avenged Sevenfold) _

Above, on the roof of one of the few remaining stable buildings, a figure watched the commotion through a pair of high-tech binoculars. Unmoving, unwavering, the male figure's drab, gray cloak billowed in the stale smoke-laden breeze. Mostly concealed by the crumbling retaining wall that stood along the edge of roof, he studied the scene below like an eagle scouting for prey.

Electricity arced from the ends of stun rods as those that refused to obey the Drivers were subdued and loaded aboard the skiffs. "Only four of the usual six drivers," The earpiece in the figure's ear chattered to life. "Two children slaughtered up the block on the right as they moved through."

"Hold position and wait for my command." The figure shifted position ever-so-slightly sweeping the scene through the binoculars. It wasn't unusual, this scenario, but the fact that there were at least five or more Drivers skiffs missing from this raid left a hard knot in the pit of his stomach. They certainly hadn't taken a vacation. And if they weren't here then where were they? Had the ruling body chosen to keep them back or was this nothing more than a well-devised trap to try and corner those who had been at war with the establishment.

"Target lock at eleven o'clock emerging from the shadows of the old court house. Our mark looks to be unarmed." The male voice hissed over the com.

"Moving," A female voice added a few minutes later. "From the left at two o'clock." The chaos grew in intensity. A pack of orphans appeared from an alley on the outskirts of the raid and began launching rocks at the Drivers from crudely made sling-shots. "What the hell-?"

"Got it. Hold positions." He swept the area again with his binoculars, adjusting them to focus in. The teen was moving toward the hovering skiffs, pushing her way through the undulating masses.

Hail to the king

Hail to the one

Kneel to the crown

Stand in the sun

Hail to the king

Hail!

Hail!

Hail!

...the King!

_(Lyrics to Song: Hail to the King. Artist: Avenged Sevenfold)_

Laser fire erupted from the underbelly of two of the skiffs, pelting the area of alley where the pack of orphans continued to assail the raiders with rocks. For the briefest of moments, the rocks ceased as the kids scrambled for cover. A high-pitched whistle broke through the air and the attack resumed. The kids refused to be intimidated even when confronted with the possibility of death.

"Hey!" A Driver barked over the ruckus from the panicking crowd and the sniping laser fire. "You! Back off or be terminated!"

Her gaze lifted then to the Driver. With an arrogance that could have sent shockwaves through plate steel, she flew him the bird. Without warning, she launched herself at the nearest skiff guard. Her weight, even though it was far less than his own, slammed into his back, setting him off balance. Before he could regain it, she gave a loud whistle. "Satan's waitin," She raised a blade from somewhere on her person and quickly but efficiently slitting his throat.

A second guard moved in, active stun rod in hand. He pushed away the now broiling crowd, throwing his weight into them to knock them to the ground. With reflexes that were far quicker than expected, he reached for her. Electricity arced forth and a wave of sparks burst from the end of the rod.

"Really," She ducked the hot fire of the stun strike. Spinning on one heel, she swept his feet with her leg. As his balance faltered, she rose up and lashed out with her blade. The knife made a single pass that opened the arteries in his neck. Blood sprayed those nearby. Before his lifeless body could find the ground, she spun away to face the next opponent. A smile broke over her expression as the next guard lunged toward her. His rage was a palpable drumming against the ear-splitting whistling coming from the gang of orphans along the opposite side of the street.

There's a taste of fear

When the henchmen call

Iron fist to tame the land

Iron fist to tame them all

_(Lyrics to Song: Hail to the King. Artist: Avenged Sevenfold)_

As the laser fire from the skiffs intensified so did the barrage of rocks being launched from cover by the packs of orphans. The chaos being created within the masses of people exploded as the Drivers began shoving any within reach into their transports rather than being selective.

"In deep trouble, target is surrounded," The female voice broke over the quiet hiss of the comm.

"Not yet, wait." He ordered watching the escalating confrontation. His focus stayed with the target as she took on the skiff guards, using the confusion of the masses to funnel the enemies into her one at a time.

"We need to move or target will be lost to the Drivers." She insisted pointedly. If she was the least bit surprised that the teen had not already been overwhelmed and was more or less holding her own against the guards, she didn't let the emotion show in her voice.

"Not yet!" He watched as the teen made quick work of three more guards. She was moving in the direction of the skiff that had the pack of orphans pinned down. He watched her shove the masses aside using the milling bodies to prevent the guards from getting a clear shot with their stun rods. "I want to know what she's after."

"Our force is in position when you're ready."

"Hold fire," He ordered taking time to scan the area and reassess the current escalating situation. Still only six skiffs to do the job of more than a dozen. Another rock dropped into his stomach at just the thought. It left his danger sense tingling even though he knew that all access routes in and out were under surveillance.

Hail to the king

Hail to the one

Kneel to the crown

Stand in the sun

Hail to the king

Hail to the one

Kneel to the crown, stand in the sun

Hail to the king!

_(Lyrics to song: Hail to the King. Artist: Avenged Sevenfold)_

With a last lunge, she reached the skiff. Ducking the spray of the stun rods, she leapt forward to take the captain of the guard in a choke hold. Letting her weight drop, she pushed backward off the railing. Using the momentum to her advantage, she yanked him over the edge of the skiff into the fray below.

"Kill her!" The guard ordered as he struggled beneath her weight.

"Oh so now it's a death warrant," Her blade flashed in the smoky light as she brought it across his throat. "Do you know the devil himself?" She spat in his face, unaware of the danger moving toward her from one of the other skiffs.

He grunted, his face flushing as the blade of her knife pressed against his throat. "Death to you. To all of you." His vain struggle failed to stop her as she lifted the data pad from its place in his uniform and slipped it into a free slot on her belt.

He grunted, his face flushing as the blade of her knife pressed against his throat. "Death to you. To all of you." His vain struggle failed to stop her as she lifted the data card from its place in his uniform and slipped it into a free slot on her belt.

She lifted her blade for the split second it took to slice his cheek open. "What was that again?" Her tone hissed like an angry snake. The blade she showed him, wiping its bloody edge across his mouth. "Satan waits," With no remorse or afterthought she slit his throat. Watching the life drain from his eyes, she then stripped him of his stun rod and any other possessions that might be of use to her before rising to her feet.

Hail!

Hail!

Hail!

The King!

_(Lyrics to song: Hail to the King. Artist: Avenged Sevenfold)_

The skiff righted itself from the shift of weight. Guards that had been stationed on the opposite side railing moved to take up the vacant position left by the disappearance of the captain. They opened up on the space in the crowd with blaster rifles, not caring that the fire might strike or kill those that were too close to where the melee had occurred.

"They are firing on the crowd." There was obvious concern in the tone as it crackled over the com.

"Target is standing. The one that she took off the skiff must be dead."

He scanned the area, noticing the multitude of guards now moving in on the teen from all sides. They were throwing those in their way up onto the skiffs with reckless abandon and walking into the blaster fire without any hesitation. A glimpse of something flat and electronic that she had slid into her belt had revealed itself to him during a break in the crowd. "Data cards," He muttered to himself. "She's stealing data cards-," The thought died as it immediately dawned on him what the teen target was trying to accomplish. "Sometimes brave to the point of stupidity isn't a bad thing."

Blaster fire pelted the crowd. The masses scrambled away from the skiffs. The stampede created more death as some were trampled underfoot. Those who couldn't get away from the fire were killed or unceremoniously drug aboard the waiting skiffs to be enslaved. Terrified screams and whistling broke over the noise as kids watching from the cover of the buildings began hollering warnings at the teen who was now more or less alone against the remaining guards.

"She can't possibly hold off that many guards successfully." There was a pause in the flow of communication as the scene began to further unravel. The teen female raised the stun rod high above her head and turned away from the closest skiff to confront the quintet of guards. "We need to move. Guards have fanned out. She's going to be trapped or-."

"I know. Do not engage. Hold position," His tone was firm as he watched through the binoculars. He knew she was overmatched and that the situation would warrant intervention but he wasn't about to do so until he was certain that the teen had exhausted all other options. Yes, she was a person of interest to them and one that he intended to keep alive but rushing into the current unraveling scenario unabashed would only risk their secrecy. It wasn't a risk he was willing to take without good reason, at least not yet.

The air crackled with static charge as she primed the stun rod, lowering and pointing it in the direction of the oncoming guards. With her free hand she motioned them closer as if begging them to attempt to take her down. She was brash, bold and more than a little over-confident but those traits had so far kept her alive. A rogue grin swelled over her features as she leveled the rod and held the trigger, allowing the static glow to turn a raging crimson before releasing and compressing it in quick succession. A triple burst of spray burst from the tip sending a circus of sparks dancing upward. "Satan!" She screamed.

The orphans responded, raising their voices over the din and returning the battle cry in chant. "Satan! Satan! Satan waits for you!" Their voices amid the blaster fire and terrified vocalizations of the masses only added tension to the current fiasco.

The chanting merely provided her with a confidence boost, as if she needed it. A hissing chuckle escaped her as she watched those guards before her collapse, twitching and unconscious to the ground the instant the spray came into contact with their flesh. "Satan awaits!" Her voice lifted to join the chanting as she again primed the rod for another round. Turning slightly, she faced another triplicate of guards, all of them armed and prepared to either take her captive or take her life.

Crackling sparks arced from the rod as she again gave the trigger several quick pulls in succession. The end of the rod glowed red and hot flame burst forth instead of the electrically charged spray. POP! The defective weapon jammed, the malfunction sending the heated sparks rushing back over the rod and into the stock. There came a spurting hiss followed by a plume of black smoke from the underside of the stock. The stock disintegrated in her hand, her flesh coming in contact with the hot metal box that created the static charge and the spray. Reflexive response to the intense burning pain as the hot metal scorched her palm, forced her hand open. The rod dropped to the ground leaving her vulnerable to the closing enemies.

She clutched her hand, the shock of the injury causing her head to swim briefly and her gaze to falter. A scream of agony escaped her, the sound immediately setting the packs of orphans into action. Slingshots blazed to life and rocks began zinging through the air as those that stood with her attempted to provide her with some sort of defense or distraction. Trembling slightly, she produced her blade and gripped it with her good hand, keeping the other pinned to her stomach. If this was the day she would die, then she would not go without a fight.

The chanting shifted, leeching into the masses as they tried to avoid the wrath of the Drivers aboard those skiffs that had went on with their work. "Satan awaits! Satan awaits-!"

"Target is injured. She will be taken or killed if we don't do something," The female voice carried a strong demanding concern over the communication. "We can't wait much longer if-."

"Take a clear firing position but hold fire." He watched the teen as she struggled to keep a step ahead of the guards. It was now a battle that she would be hard-pressed to win. Hissing between his teeth, he focused in on two guards moving in from behind the current position of the teen. Both had blasters in hand, ready to fire on her once they were in close proximity. The situation had now turned deadly. If they were going to extricate the teen alive, they would have no choice but to intervene. However, something deep in his gut kept insisting that the timing wasn't yet quite right. He'd learned from years of experience to follow his instinct.

"What the-?!" There came a barrage of surprised chatter over the communication. "Commander, the portal-." There came a brief pause. "It has been breached."

The bright flash of light emanating from the nearby portal stopped those within the masses that were paying any sort of attention cold. The scene seemed to suddenly go silent. Blaster fire from the skiffs halted for the split second it took them to realize the light show had emanated from the portal. It had been breached from the wrong side. Another bright flash followed closely by an angry swirl of color furthered the odd, but brief stalemate as whatever had been thrown into the portal exited it, landing with a visible cloud of dust on the ground.

He watched the scene through the binoculars. The object that landed beneath the portal wasn't inanimate, in fact it was far from it. Through the binoculars, he could easily make out its overall shape. It was a person. "So someone has managed to escape through the portal. It's not locked from that side after all, at least not consistently." The revelation came as no real surprise to him although it probably should have. There had been stories of others that had managed to escape after being taken captive but the survivors in those cases were few and far between. Two of those that had managed that feat were cloaked and ready to respond to his commands. Instinct told him others that were currently thought to be dead or missing might still be alive after all. He turned his focus slowly back to the teen.

For the span of heartbeats she forgot about the presence of the guards. The angry flash and swirling colors of the portal was captivating but even more so the fact that someone had exited it from the other side. She allowed her gaze to take in the area around the portal, watching the faintest of movement coming from the body on the ground beneath it.

"Halt! You are to be taken prisoner to stand for the deaths of these that you've slaughtered." The guard called as he and another made haste to reach her before she could refocus to their presence. "Surrender or be terminated."

The admonition fell upon deaf ears as the blaster fire from the skiffs and the chanting from the masses and the orphans drowned out all other ambient sound. She distractedly raised her blade into the air, as if to rally those that were chanting to continue. A moment later, horrible pain raced through her chest and down her arm. A bloodstain grew upon her shoulder and then another just below her elbow. She staggered in shock as the searing pain sucked the breath from her lungs and left her woozy and disoriented…

"Target is hit," The female voice called over the com. "I'm going in. If someone doesn't take her now, she won't be available to take." Crackling static swept through the connection as she adjusted her cloak and set out toward the masses of people and the skiffs. A few moments later, the connection abruptly cut off.

"Damn it!" A male voice followed. As if the situation wasn't already dire, now this. "Commander, she's going to need cover. If those drivers get eyes on her she'll be terminated before we can act."

"Take aim." He watched as she sidled toward the edge of the swirling mass of people. The main skiff, still firing, was now moving toward the teen. The guards were taking up a position that would allow them to apprehend her with little effort. He knew what would happen to his operative should her identity be revealed. Even though she had broken command, he would not allow her to perish or be taken into slavery.

In the crowds, some began to take notice of the hooded figure moving with purpose into their midst. The curious paused, seeming in awe or shock. The change caught the immediate attention of the skiff guards making the treacherous task of just reaching the teen even more dangerous. One skiff turned toward the commotion, or sudden lack thereof, its belly blasters swinging around to face this new threat.

"Halt!" Two guards leapt from the incoming skiff, moving with weapons drawn to intercept the cloaked figure that was now moving with purpose toward the area where the injured teen was attempting to fight off not only the swirling masses but also the remaining trio of guards. The closest of them fired several blaster shots into the air, a warning of further more drastic measures to come.

Lithe, like a cat, cloak billowing slightly in the stagnate air, she slipped through the undulating masses. She heard the guard's command perfectly but merely continued on her mission. Her hand slithered down to release the holster strap and draw her own blaster from its place at her hip. If they wanted a fight, she would certainly give them one. Reaching the teen was top priority. It was vital, however, that her cover remain intact. If by some chance the guards managed to get a hand on her and pull her hood back, she would have no chance as they would kill her on sight. It was not an outcome she was willing to allow and she could only hope that she would have cover should the skiff begin strafing the area with blaster fire.

Electricity crackled over the space as stun rods were primed and guards began to move in. "Hey! Stop right there or be executed!" The closest guard shifted the aim of his stun rod, putting its sight clearly upon, not the injured teen who was now completely surrounded by a swarm of guards, but upon the cloaked figure moving swiftly toward the melee. For a moment, his aim never wavered, but then as he realized what was about to happen, he shifted the rod's aim to the injured teen. The other guards brought their blasters to bear on the cloaked figure.

"Fire!" The skiff captain ordered. His crooked finger pointed directly at the cloaked figure who was now in the skiff's line of fire. The belly guns opened up, strafing the point in the crowd where the gunners had last seen the cloaked figure and the injured teen. The masses fell back. The terror and commotion leaving a trail of dead or dying in a strange pattern along the dry, ash covered ground. The scent of fresh blood and death permeated the already noxious air.

The guard seemed to gleam with supremacy as he came face-to-face with the hidden figure. With one hand, he jerked the injured teen over in front of him, using the wounded female as a shield and also leverage against whatever attack might come. "Surrender or face execution." He flashed first the activated stun rod and then his blaster.

The sight of the pistol seemed to only infuriate the teen, who up until that point, had been barely conscious. She struggled weakly, stomping her feet and tugging against his grip enough that he had to shift his stance to keep from being jerked off balance. The two wounds in her arm oozed blood against the charred, shredded fabric of her shirt. Haze of intense pain glazed her eyes and black spots danced at the periphery of her vision as she forced herself to focus.

"Let the teen go," The voice boomed from beyond the dark recesses of the hood. "Let her go!" The figure held ground, refusing to give in to the demand and refusing to back down.

His grip tightened. "She must suffer and then die for her crimes." He jerked the teen back against him, using his weight and the awkward pressure against her arm to keep her in custody. Almost imperceptibly, his gaze lifted. A subtle hint that there were guards moving in from behind.

The teen, feeling the shift in tension against her body, began to struggle once more. Her gaze held on the hooded figure. She trampled the guard's feet with her booted heels and used her weight against him even though he out massed her by at least one hundred pounds. Her energy level was low and quickly being further depleted due to the effects of shock and the activity. Maybe, just maybe the cloaked figure had appeared to free her rather than do further harm. She had no other choice even if, deep down, she was leery. It was either that or be taken prisoner, tortured and executed by the ruling power for her various, long list of crimes.

"Let her go!" Movement from beneath the cloak as the figure slipped the blaster from its place and silently released the safety. The time for petty games and blatant refusal had come to an end. The wounds were quickly overwhelming the teen and the more she tried to free herself the weaker she became. The guard held his ground, keeping the squirming teen firmly in front of him in an effort to retain his leverage.

The crackle of activated stun rods and the click as the safety was released on other weapons didn't go unnoticed. In that moment the masses seemed to pause as if to take a resounding breath. Without warning the gangs of kids that had been watching from the cover of the buildings began once again pelting the skiffs with rocks as if to create some sort of distraction.

"Freeze!" A gruff voice ordered from behind. "Get those hands where I can see them." The guard moved in to apprehend the cloaked figure, ignoring the rocks that were hurling through the air. "You will surrender to slavery!" Clanking of metal on metal as the hulk of greasy male moved forward, along with two others, weapons at the ready.

"No!" The teen screamed, her voice cracking toward the end. "No!" Pain flashed in her eyes as she raised her free, but badly injured arm into the air. Just the sight of her blistered, bloody hand high in the air seemed to ignite hope and fire in the gangs of orphans. They began to chant as they had before and within moments, even more rocks began sailing through the smoky air from their slingshots. The escalation in noise coupled with the whine of skiff engines and blaster fire set those in the masses that were still standing into an all-out revolt

Time slowed and for a few minutes the guards were trapped in a broiling wave of confusion and thrashing fists of those that rallied around the plight of the teen. In the mayhem, the figure dropped into a crouch. With a quick spin, a readied blaster was turned onto the guards. The three closest to them were taken out before they could get off a clean shot with either blaster or stun rod. Without warning, a hand raised to the front of the hood and a moment later an ear shattering whistle penetrated the chaos.-.

"Open fire!" The order crackled over the comm. It was time. If his operative was going to have any chance at all of rescuing the teen without being caught, it was now. "Take out the guards on the ground first." As he and his team opened fire from their positions atop buildings. He scanned the area, focusing first on the battle for the teen and then over to the portal where the body that had been dumped there was now visibly moving. "Try to avoid taking innocent lives."

Precise marksmanship and efficient laser sighting kept unnecessary death to a minimum as operatives began taking out the guards both in control of the working skiffs and also on the ground. A wave of chanting burst from the masses as they realized that the new rain of blaster fire wasn't aimed at them but at those that sought to take their lives or imprison them. The gangs of children were suddenly rejuvenated in their quest and their whistling added to the melee as they once again began to pelt the skiffs with rocks.

"Commander, another skiff coming in from the west. They've caught onto us. Will our cover be enough?" Their cover had so far kept the hostile force from overtaking the operative's position on the ground but the battle had not been easy and with another skiff coming in, the window of opportunity for safe and successful extraction was quickly closing.

"It will have to be enough." There was a bold, brashness to his tone. "As soon as that other skiff comes in range, take out the guards. V, see if you can give our operative a little help with your sniper eye. Let's close it down. We are running out of time." His attention again shifted to the portal. He swept the scene with the binoculars, picking up the fact that whomever had been dumped from the portal was now making a clear effort to find safety in the maze of alleyways that led into the dregs of the city from the square_. 'Dammit!'_ He cursed under his breath. "Zhane, can you tag the one that came through the portal with a tracking beacon without causing further injury or drawing unwanted attention?"

"On it." The response crackled over the communication. The filthy, smoke-laden air interfered with the connection even though the transmitters were within optimum range. He moved into a position to acquire clear aim with the specialized, long-range rifle. The weapon was capable of firing standard blaster fire, along with live ammo but its ability to sight in and fire tracking beads had been far more useful in these dark times than the other options.

"Commander, target has been reached. Providing tactical cover." V took aim with her long-range rifle and began to surgically take out any threats that might interfere with the operative's mission on the ground.

"Tracking device is aboard. The signal should last seventy-two hours give or take a few and barring no unexpected issues. Now whether it goes unnoticed, well that's a different matter."

"Prepare to vacate the area on my command." He turned his focus back to the plight of his operative in the midst of the turmoil on the ground. "We will have to cover our departure so be ready."

She closed the space. Her hearing attuned totally to her surroundings. She blocked out the whistling, chanting of the crowd and the children and focused on the rhythmic, familiar sound of cover fire. Her gaze met with the teen's briefly. No words were spoken but she could see in the teen's eyes that her thoughts were clear. _'You have to help me for me to help you.' _

Without warning, the teen seemed to suddenly come to life. She brought her heel down on top of the guard's foot and threw herself forward in an effort to break his grip. Even though her thrashing was weakened by injury, she made a bold effort.

A convulsive shudder shook the guard's frame. His eyes grew wide and his grip tightened reflexively as if the teen's sudden fit was taxing his temper. A crackling hiss came in the same moment as his opponent planted a well-aimed boot to his ribcage, missing the teen by mere centimeters. He gave the teen a hard shove, the momentum causing her to stumble forward. The end of the active stun rod dug into her back sending a full jolt of electricity arcing down her spine. He froze then as blood fell from the corners of his mouth. In the next moment, he collapsed stone-dead to the ground. The teen's twitching, unconscious frame lay sprawled a few feet in front of him.


End file.
